Entered into the Open Novella Contest 2022 | This version of the book was posted solely for the ONC. A final, even more, polished version will be coming soon to Amazon! All feedback on story pacing, character development, and the overall plot is mos...
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As the evening draws to a close, King Adrian bids every a good night and takes his leave. Most of the guests are leaving as well, but Mother and I linger a while longer. We will stay in the guest suite and leave for Vratha in the morning.
The young woman wanting the prince's attention to herself is not alone, as she claimed. Her mother, a stout woman with a thick white collar around her neck, accompanies her. She wears her hair up in a rope-like braid, standing on the top of her head in a weird cone shape. Fashionable in her eyes, I suppose.
"How was your conversation with the prince, Ariabella?" Mother asks as we take a rest on one of the many stone benches.
"Interesting," I reply, shrugging. "He was hospitable and really seemed to enjoy confusing me."
"Confusing you, in what way?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Today has been full of new experiences. Talking to the prince is just another thing I'm not used to doing."
"Hmm."
Mother pats my arm.
A moment later, the young woman and her mother leave. The prince joins us, standing some feet away.
"I swear, she never stops talking," he says, shaking his head. "She is just not as interesting as she thinks."
"That's not very nice," Mother says, shaking her head."But is it not the truth?"
I meet the prince's gaze. His smile does not falter, and he doesn't look away. His eyes shine in the glow of the candle. To my surprise, he removes his crown and throws back his head. Black hair shakes and moves out of his face. The tattoo bird is in full view.
"Shall I escort you back to your suite?" the prince asks, returning the crown to his head and tucking his loose hair behind his head.
"That would be lovely," Mother replies, pulling me to my feet as she also rises. "Ariabella will not admit to it, she is quite tired."
"Mother," I scold, but my yawn gives me away.
Prince Elias chuckles, "I would never admit to it either."
He offers me an arm, I accept without hesitation. He does the same for Mother, but she declines.
"I believe you are in the East Wing, yes?" he asks as we walk to one of the side entrances.
"I was not paying any attention," I say, shaking my head. "I was starstruck when they showed us to the room this morning."
The prince laughs; I am beginning to understand that he is a very joyful kind of person. And it is very difficult for me to not mirror his joy.
"Not to worry," he says, "I can find the way. I do believe I know this place better than anyone. Even better than the servants, too. And trust me, the servants are trained to know every hiding place. It is part of palace safety protocol."
